


Of Course

by JaneTurenne



Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneTurenne/pseuds/JaneTurenne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sensible people would point out that playing with matches is a good way to get burned.  But Leela has had just about enough of sensible Time Lords.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YourFavoriteRobot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourFavoriteRobot/gifts).



> Written for [TARDIScrash](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDIScrash/pseuds/TARDIScrash) in the 2012 morepolitics ficathon  
> Beta thanks to [agapi42](http://archiveofourown.org/users/agapi42/pseuds/agapi42)

She keeps the strictest possible hold on herself where Narvin is concerned. It isn't difficult, frankly. Romana's job is stressful and frustrating and even frightening, sometimes, and he's the one person she cannot hurt. _Nothing_ ever hurts Narvin. Nothing ever touches him deeply enough—that is, fundamentally speaking, the problem. And so she takes everything out on him, insults and raised voices and barb after barb after barb, and cherishes her grim satisfaction in his retorts, and clutches her control until her knuckles turn white.

Perhaps she'll even convince herself, one day, that she's never wanted any more than this.

*

He keeps the strictest possible hold on himself where his Lady President is concerned, and it's the hardest thing he's ever done.

The problem isn't that she makes him angry. It's that she makes him the wrong _kind_ of angry. Because yes, her insults provoke his temper. Yes, her vision for Gallifrey makes his blood boil. But those are nothing to what he feels every time she thoughtlessly flings herself headlong into danger, and he nearly loses her.

Romana has no idea how skilled he really is at hiding his anger, and, if Narvin has his way, she never will.

*

She has kept silent, before. But Leela is resolved to choose her own path, especially now she has returned to her friends, and she does not choose to keep silent anymore.

There is fighting with an enemy; that is one thing. Then there is fighting between friends who would be more, and that is another. It was easy not to notice while Narvin seemed an enemy. But now he is a loyal friend, and the way he and Romana fight is something Leela can see.

Not-doing is still worse than not-speaking. Leela is glad, _finally_ , to have something to do.

*

"You should tell him."

"I really shouldn't, Leela."

"He will notice someday. I did."

"Your emotional acuity is so many orders of magnitude beyond Narvin's that the two can hardly be discussed in the same breath."

"You mean that he will not notice."

"Precisely."

"You are wrong."

"I'll make _sure_ he doesn't notice."

"Why, when you might let yourself be happy?"

"The chances that Narvin could make me happy are slim, and the chances that he _would_ are nonexistent."

"And when you wear yourself out with all this running away, I only hope that he is there to catch you."

*

"You should tell her."

"There's nothing to tell."

"You would be a better liar, Narvin, if you told me the truth sometimes. I need only believe the opposite of everything that you say to find the truth."

"That sounded almost like basic logic, Savage. I never thought you had it in you. You know, I'm almost proud."

"You are trying to distract me. It will not work. You should tell her."

"There is _nothing_ to tell."

"You love her."

"The very notion is laughable."

"You are not laughing."

"No," he says, "but she would be," and disappears from the room.

*

Of _course_ it's Narvin.

Romana has studied her share of psychology. Even if she hadn't, her own issues with trust and emotional intimacy would be painfully difficult to miss. She could never develop feelings for someone _accessible_ , someone who actually _cared_. But Narvin is barbed wire and thorns around a core of vinegar, and has never, she's sure, experienced any emotion softer than resigned if grudging tolerance. He would give his life serving the Presidential robes, but has never spared a single thought about the woman inside them. 

The perfect man, she thinks, with a weary shadow of a laugh.

*

Of _course_ it's Romana. 

On the one hand, this situation is unprecedented. On the other, it's symptomatic of everything Narvin's life has ever been. If there is a staser in the room, Narvin can confidently expect to be shot; if there's a bomb, he will unquestionably be the Time Lord standing closest when it blows. If his meticulous training was ever going to slip, if any Time Lady was ever going to make an impression, she would inevitably be the emotional equivalent of a weapon of mass destruction.

Good thing that doesn't describe any Lady Presidents he happens to know.

*

Of _course_ they belong to each other.

Others would laugh if Leela said how alike her two friends are. But it is true. They both love Gallifrey like a fire in their hearts; they would both give anything to protect it. They are both sharp and stubborn and proud and angry, and both, at times, unexpectedly kind. They both feel deeply and hide those feelings deeper. And each desires the happiness that the other could give.

Leela lost the other half of her soul, and will always ache that pain. She will not let those she loves make her mistake.

*

"You are being stupid," says Leela, perching on the corner of Narvin's desk.

"Are you here _again_? I do have other things to do than listen to your senseless ramblings."

"Serving your President is your first duty, Chancellor. You should always have time to talk about Romana."

"Protecting my planet is my first duty. Caring for Romana is your job."

"Then your care for Romana is not because you are Chancellor?"

"Get out before I set my guard on you, Savage."

"Tell her, Narvin, or I will."

"Go ahead. She'll never believe you, and it might stop you bothering me."

*

"Narvin says to tell you that he loves you."

Romana chokes.

"Lying for my benefit really isn't necessary, Leela," she coughs out.

"I never lie. And he said that you would not believe me."

"I don't," Romana agrees. "I appreciate that you _believe_ he has feelings for me, Leela, but..."

"You said that I have great," Leela concentrates, "emotional acuity."

"You do, but..."

" _You_ do not." Romana blinks. "I am right about this, Romana. And if you would only stop and truly think, you would agree."

This time Leela is the one to walk away, leaving Romana in stunned silence.

*

Leela has not lived on Gallifrey this long without learning to use what Time Lords call 'proper channels.' It is not hard to twist Romana's schedule, and Narvin's, to arrange for them to meet at first sunset tonight. There is a room that is neither of their offices, smaller, more comfortable, with a lovely view, that is used for informal meetings between politicians. They will both suspect the trap, but neither will be so certain that they do not go.

Leela has done her part. She only hopes her Time Lords will not be stupid enough to bungle it.

*

"Your office didn't arrange this meeting," says Romana, without preamble, as she sweeps through the door. "Did they?"

"Nor yours, I take it," Narvin replies.

"There's a version of Andred on this world," Romana says, sinking into an armchair. "Perhaps if we nudge her in his direction, she'll be too distracted by her own romantic entanglements to worry about playing matchmaker."

"Do you really believe that?" he asks, sitting beside her.

Romana sighs. "No."

They sit in silence, not-looking at each other from the corners of their eyes.

"Narvin," says Romana, in her most terrifyingly honest voice, "is it true?"

*

Narvin sits, frozen, and moves murdering Leela to the top of his to-do list. "You'll have to be slightly more specific."

She purses her lips, annoyed, and Narvin breathes again. 'Annoyed' is much more familiar territory. "Kindly refrain from treating me like an imbecile, Narvin."

"The day you stop doing the same."

"The difference is that _you_ deserve it."

They've turned to face each other, back on this comfortable combative ground. The first twitch at the corner of Romana's mouth stops Narvin replying. And then her lips tremble again, and then she's smiling.

_Rassilon help me,_ Narvin thinks, _I'm doomed._

*

"You know, some women might be offended by that horrorstruck look on your face."

"Fortunately, you are above such pettiness."

"You're not going to make me drop everything to fight with you."

"I am extraordinarily talented at making you fight with me."

"I _permit_ you to fight with me when it happens to suit my purposes. At the moment, I am more concerned with answers."

"I don't recall any questions."

Romana rolls her eyes. "Do Leela's insinuations regarding your feelings for me have any grounding in truth, or are you actually as devoid of such emotions as I've always supposed?"

*

Narvin swallows. "There are other options," he points out, sharply. "I'm hardly surprised that you consider yourself the only Time Lord capable of emotion, but..."

"Narvin..."

"...assuming that if I have ever in my lives felt anything for anyone it _must_ be you is a level of arrogance..."

"Stop it."

"...that I hadn't suspected even of..."

" _Stop it_ , Narvin." He stops. "Now look at me."

Reluctantly, he does.

"I understand that you're afraid," says Romana, gently. "I am myself. I just have a bad habit of doing the things I'm afraid of."

"What have you ever been..."

She kisses him.

*

It's brief, soft, honest, but more than enough to leave Narvin paralyzed, lost. 

"Rejection," Romana says, after. "Loneliness. Driving away the people I care about most. Isn't everybody afraid of those?"

He should say something. Unfortunately, speech seems to be beyond him. The silence stretches on, growing thinner until it breaks.

"With good cause, apparently," Romana says briskly, her lips tightening as she stands. "I apologize for putting you in this uncomfortable position, Chancellor. Nothing of the kind will happen again."

"Romana." She is nearly out the door. "Romana, _wait_."

She has never obeyed him before, and doesn't start now.

*

Leela is rarely startled, but Narvin charging into her rooms unannounced is enough to make her hand fly to her knife.

"This is _your fault_ , Savage," he snarls, rushing at her, then turning to pace the other way. "Things were _fine_. I was handling this, this _insanity_ , I was coping, it was _fine_. Why did you have to go trying to _change_ everything?"

"Change is not a bad thing."

"There is a way things should be. Change from that is never an improvement."

"If you have not outgrown that idea, after everything, then you do not deserve her after all."

*

Narvin sinks onto a cushion on Leela's floor. "Of course I don't deserve her," he says, shaking. "That's the _point_. I've never been the sort of man who... and she's always so... Leela, she... Romana is..."

"She is your President," says Leela, smiling.

" _Yes_."

"That does not stop her being Romana. She is not a statue carved of stone, to be stared at and admired. She is a woman, and her hearts belong to you."

"That doesn't make sense. It can't be true."

"Sometimes, Narvin, you are very stupid."

"Yes," says Romana, from the doorway behind him, "I quite agree."

*

"Thank you for everything, Leela," says Romana. "I believe I can handle it from here."

"Are you certain?" asks Leela. "I might just twist his arm a bit, to be sure that he will learn."

"I don't believe physical torture will prove necessary. Come along, Narvin."

"But..." he says, helplessly.

Romana grasps him by the arm and marches resolutely in the opposite direction.

"Seeing is for the eyes, Narvin, and believing for the heart. Trust yours."

"Savage, your cliched folk wisdom is the _last_ thing..."

The door closes behind them. It is in Romana's hands now, thinks Leela, and grins.

*

Romana drags Narvin through five corridors, down three secret passageways and into her own rooms. At no point does he protest, or indeed say anything whatever. The only conclusion to be drawn is that she's broken him completely, which is a pity.

"I admit to having miscalculated earlier," Romana says, halting in the middle of her sitting room, releasing Narvin. "I'd forgotten how much you enjoy the occasional fit of hysterics. Tell me I'm mad, tell me this is a bad idea, have your required panic." She steps into his personal space. "And then stop being childish, and kiss me."

*

That startles a flash from his eyes. " _I'm_ being childish?"

"Extraordinarily. It's hardly among your better qualities, but I'm prepared to overlook it."

"Romana, stop and think. This... whatever you want from me, it can't work."

"Do you respect me, Narvin?"

"What?"

"Do you respect me, as a person?"

"I...yes, of course."

"Do you like me?"

"I don't like _people_."

"Yes," she smiles, "but you like me."

"...it's not impossible. On your better days."

"Do you think I'm beautiful?"

He hesitates. "Yes," he mumbles, grudgingly.

She lays one hand over each of his hearts. "And do you want me?"

*

He doesn't speak, but the way he looks at her is far more eloquent than he intends.

"Not only can this work," says Romana, "but I fully intend that it should. You've seen me when I set my mind to something, Narvin. Do you really want to stand in the way?"

"Rassilon forbid."

" _There_ you are. I scarcely recognized you without the sarcasm. Please refrain from disconcerting me that way in future."

Cautiously, he slides his arms around her waist. "I'll do my best," he says, like a promise.

"I know you will," she says, and leans into his kiss.

*

Leela means to leave her tray on Romana's dining table and creep out unseen. She is nearly gone when someone catches her arm.

"Spying, Savage?" Narvin asks.

Leela looks up at him. There is a glow in his eyes that she has never seen, but always knew could be there.

"I learned from a friend," she says.

"Romana does keep food here, you know, you hardly needed to bring breakfast."

" _Needing_ was not the point."

"No," he agrees. "You won't stay?"

"Another morning."

Narvin nods. "And Leela?"

He smiles, and she feels his happiness settle within her breast.

"Thank you."


End file.
